What Do You Do With a Drunken Cowboy?
by scottishvalkyrie
Summary: The Bebop crew had had a particularly terrible week. But the crew rallied together and found a way to deal with it: they got drunk.


_I do not own any of the CB characters, and this story and the dialogue is completely fictional and not based on anyone's drunken ramblings whatsoever. Well, not really. The names were changed to protect the guilty. Thank you for reading this bit of fluff._

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_**What Do You Do With a Drunken Cowboy?**_

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The Bebop crew had had a particularly terrible week. But the crew rallied together and found a way to deal with it: they got drunk. 

That wasn't completely true. Ed did not get drunk, and neither did Ein. Not even the three adults ostensibly in charge of the Bebop were that irresponsible. Spike, however, maintained that getting the zany teenager tipsy might actually make her coherent. Jet responded that it was a good thing that Spike hadn't actually brought any children into the universe, if that was an indication of his parenting skills. Faye countered that both Spike and Jet may had indeed fathered children, but since they were both irresponsible jackasses it was more likely that they just didn't know about them. And to give them both credit, the men agreed that that possibility might very well be true. However, the admission of this possible truth did not endear either one of them to Faye, and she proceeded to call them utter and complete whores. Spike responded that it took one to know one, and Jet had dissolved into giggling.

The three sat, each on their own chair, feet touching on the small table. Each of them had their heads resting on the chair backs.

Spike waved his arm. "I have never . . ."

Faye groaned. "We are NOT going there."

Jet muttered, "Explain, please."

Faye replied, "'I have never' is the most stupid drinking game. Someone says that they've never done something and the person who does has to drink and the drinker says the next 'I've never.'"

Jet smiled. "That actually sounds amusing."

Spike waved his arm again. "What I was going to say, thank you very much, before I was so rudely interrupted, thank you very much, was . . . I've never played that dumb game. But since you brought it up, Faye, you can start."

Faye groaned again. "Twist my arm."

Spike chuckled. "I'm not touching your arm."

Faye scoffed. "Screw you, fly boy."

Spike: "That's a different game entirely. You up for that one, Jet?"

Jet: "Stay the hell away from me."

Faye: "Fine, fine. I have never . . . I have never . . . gone skinny-dipping."

Spike: "You're kidding."

Faye: "Nope."

Spike: "Me either."

Faye: "Then why are you giving me grief about it?"

Jet: "I have."

Faye: "Drink, then, and tell the story."

Jet: "Oh-ho, is that part of the game?"

Faye: "Only the most important part."

Jet: "Um, let's see. Bare facts . . ."

Spike: "Literally."

Jet: "I was 15, she was 15, backyard lake, attacked by a swan. My turn now? Let's see. I have never . . . Had sex in zero gravity."

Faye: "I have. It's over-rated, especially when you add in motion sickness and . . . fluids . . . in zero gravity. Shit. I can't think of anything. Okay, it's a universal, we'll all drink . . . I have never done body shots."

Faye and Jet drank, yet Spike stayed still. Jet raised an eyebrow. "You have got to be kidding me."

Spike: "I'm not even sure what body shots are. You two must have gone to a different school than I, skinny-dipping and zero-gravity sex and all."

Jet: "Faye, demonstrate for the man. Deflower his body-shot virginity."

Faye rolled her eyes, chopped a chunk off the lime on the table, and poured herself another shot. She staggered over to Spike, straddled his leg, and held the lime chunk in front of his face. "Put this between your teeth." Spike obliged. "Now stay still." She grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. In a series of beautifully choreographed moves, she licked his throat, threw salt on the wet patch on his neck, licked his throat again, threw back the shot, and sucked the lime out of his mouth. Then she spit the lime rind on the table, and sat back down.

Spike found that he couldn't move. He blinked, and then drawled in his best pirate voice, "Argh, the wench has a tongue like an electric eel." Then he coughed and said, "I don't think I got the full effect on that. Do that again."

Jet replied, "No, you need a better visual. I'll hold the lime for you, Faye."

Faye: "Like hell you will. Both of you are assholes and I know that Spike was lying. He dropped the lime into the back of his mouth when I went for it."

Spike: "The lime was frightened. I was trying to protect it."

Faye: "Spike has yet to say an 'I've never'. Your turn."

Spike swirled the amber liquid in his glass. Then he said, "I have never had a sexual experience with a member of my own gender."

And both men looked expectantly at Faye.

She grinned and said, "Sorry, boys." Both men groaned with disappointment. "What is it with you men and your women-on-women fascination?"

Jet: "Isn't it obvious?"

Faye: "Not especially. And you can't tell me that men-on-men holds the same fascination."

Spike searched for an answer. "It's just . . ." and while he thought about it, he brought up both hands in a sort of supplication. Jet followed in suit. "Yes, Jet, it's just about like that."

Faye realized that both men were holding both hands up, as if they were fondling a pair of breasts, and she threw a chunk of lime at each of them. "Jesus, it's like you two are still in college or something."

Spike: "I never went to college."

Jet: "I did. Got a degree in criminal sciences. Minored in electrical engineering."

Spike: "I never knew that."

Faye: "I was going to go to college. But . . ." She waved her hand and frowned. "You know."

Jet: "What were you going to major in?"

Faye gave a small smile. "I was really interested in anthropology, but I also liked art history. I saw myself as a curator in a big museum, reading old books and staring at old master's paintings all day."

Spike: "That doesn't sound like you at all."

Faye: "People change."

Spike: "Your turn."

Faye's eyes narrowed. "Who says?"

Spike topped off his glass. "Why not?"

Faye rolled her eyes. "Fine. I have never had two partners at the same time."

Spike moved his glass towards his lips, and then put his hand down. "Clarification. Do you mean, two partners at the same time, like . . . in the same spot of real estate . . ."

Jet burst out laughing.

Spike continued. "Or two partners as in . . . two people in the same time frame?"

Faye raised an eyebrow. "Either. Or both."

Spike shook his head. "Still can't drink."

Faye nearly exploded. "You are _lying_, Spiegel."

Spike countered, "Why does it surprise you that I have not had sexual experience out of what is normally considered ordinary?"

Faye: "We know _nothing_ about you."

Spike: "So you can't suggest that I'm lying, since you have no frame of reference what is truthful about me or not."

Faye was fuming. "Then reveal something about the great and powerful Spike Spiegel. _Anything._"

Spike rolled his eyes. "My father was a preacher. He sent me to a seminary when I was young, and I got kicked out for fighting. I played the clarinet, my mother taught me how to crochet, and I can juggle. I smoked my first cigarette at ten, had my first drink at twelve, first got laid at age sixteen. She was a friend of my mother's, and sometimes, I baby-sat her kids. I dropped out of school because I was spending all my time in a pool hall anyway. Shortly after that I met Vicious and joined the Syndicate. I met Julia, who was only the second lover I had ever had, and she was sleeping with Vicious at the same time. I got killed at least once, met this drunken man with the fake arm over there in a bar, and I joined up on this ship, squeaking out an existence by chasing down the scum of the universe, which, by an amazing coincidence, is how I met you. Oh, and did I say I know how to juggle?"

Faye was dumbfounded. "Is all that true?"

Spike replied, "No. My mother didn't teach me how to crochet. She taught me how to knit."

Faye and Spike kept looking at each other, Faye, with a puzzled look on her face, and Spike, who had a slight smirk on his. There was silence, which was interrupted by the faint voice of someone who was undoubtedly extremely drunk.

"Show me the way to go home . . . I'm tired and I want to go to bed . . ."

Faye and Spike looked at Jet, who was sprawled in the chair, balancing his glass on his forehead. Spike grinned, and then started singing along with Jet.

"I had a little drink about an hour ago and it went straight to my head . . ."

And then Faye joined in. "Where ever I may roam, on land or sea or foam . . . You will always hear me singing this song . . . Show me the way to go home."

And over and over the three sang that song like drunken sailors, until Ed came out of her room and screeched at them to just shut up and pass out.

_Show me the way to go home_

_I'm tired and I want to go to bed_

_I had a little drink about an hour ago_

_And it went straight to my head_

_Where ever I may roam_

_On land or sea or foam_

_You will always hear me singing this song_

_Show me the way to go home. -- _Irving King

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End file.
